This Feeling
by Laurette94
Summary: Written for the First Kiss Challenge set by Asking Me Where My Love Grows. Shows Tom Riddle's emotions after and leading up to his first kiss shared with a girl in his orphanage. One-Shot. Tom R./OC


AN: This is a submission for the First Kiss Challenge as set by Asking Me Where My Love Grows. I got the character Tom Riddle. I found this an interesting character to explore and write about. I thought his first kiss would be sweet, but at the same time plagued by his own negativity. I did play down his evilness somewhat, I believe that before the influence of Dark Magic, he still had a glint of childhood innocence contained within him, now matter how minor. I hope you enjoy it. Please R I only own the OC mentioned in this FF, everything Potter related belongs to the enigma that is J.K. Rowling.

Tom Marvolo Riddle hated a lot of things. He hated his father because he abandoned his mother, he hated his mother because she died, thus in a sense abandoning him. He also hated the orphanage he stayed in, he hated the carers, he hated the other children who lived with him and most of all he hated Clarissa Nuneaton.

Tom was eleven years old, the same year he had found out he was special. He was a wizard. Tom was sat in his room, still holding the equipment list for his first year at Hogwarts in his hand, as if it was religious text. He had not quite gotten over his visit from Albus Dumbledore, the Transfiguration teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He felt comfort in reading over his booklist, for it meant he belonged somewhere. He would be going to a school full of like-minded people, people like him.

It was the first time in Tom's life he had felt an emotion, a positive emotion at that. He had always felt so apathetic, and unimportant in life. But now he had a reason to feel, and it was two days ago that Tom had gained another reason to feel. However, what happened didn't make Tom feel elation, positivity, it added another chip to his already broken and virtually non-existent heart. It was love.

Tom had heard about love, whether it be from a parent to a child, from a sister to a brother. He felt it was a sign of weakness. To be so dependent on another person, to trust them with their lives, to feel so connected with someone, that if the other person left them or died, they felt like dying too. For life was not worth living without love. Tom felt it was dangerous, to be avoided.

Tom was in the dining room in the orphanage that day it happened, alone. He liked to sit there after breakfast because it meant he was away from any intruders. However, he was interrupted. By Clarissa. Tom never spoke to Clarissa, he ignored everybody. It didn't stop Clarissa from trying though. Every day Clarissa would come into Tom's room, or sit with him in the dining room and talk at him. Tom hardly ever responded. He would give mono-syllabic answers until Clarissa walked off bored.

Clarissa was a small girl, the same age as Tom. She had watery blue eyes and waist-length vibrant red hair. She had ivory skin, and freckles scattered on her face. To anyone else in the world Clarissa was a pretty young girl, but to Tom she was just a face, barely a name to him.

It confused Tom, for he uncharacteristically dropped his guard. Why is it that when Clarissa went to speak to him he didn't run away, or ignore her presence?

"Hey Tommy, what are you sat here for?" Clarissa asked in her melodic voice.

"Nothing," Tom muttered, wanting to be left alone.

"Why don't you come in the play room with us? We're having a game of Monopoly," Clarissa replied politely.

"No," Tom mumbled, being in a room full of other people was his worst nightmare.

"Don't be so moody Tom. Or no one will ever like you," Clarissa said teasingly. For any other child, that would have been hurtful. Tom didn't care, he didn't want people liking him anyway.

"No."

"Please Tom, for me?" Clarissa asked, smiling widely at him.

"No," Tom repeated, trying to avoid her gaze. He felt himself cracking under her relentless sunshine.

"You know you're a very special boy Tom, no one sees that. But I sure do," Clarissa said as she sat next to him. Tom sat up straight, he didn't like people being in his personal space.

"I'm not special," Tom murmured.

"You are Tom. I know you like being on your own. But I think everyone deserves at least one friend," Clarissa beamed.

"I don't need friends," Tom replied, shuffling uncomfortably under Clarissa's gaze.

"Yes you do. You have me," Clarissa said cheerfully. Tom looked at Clarissa and raised an eyebrow.

"Friend?" Tom asked in confusion. He had never had a friend before, he didn't exactly want one, but the notion of having a friend didn't rub Tom the wrong way, which Tom thought was abnormal.

"Yeah Tom, I know you don't always talk to me. And you want me to go away most of the time, but I'm here for you. Whether you want me here or not," Clarissa said with a grin. She shifted closer to Tom, making him feel even more uneasy. He wasn't too sure how to respond to this.

His head thought Clarissa was nauseating, and wanted her to leave him alone. Yet, for once his heart had an opinion too. His heart told him to listen to Clarissa, it wanted Tom to be friends with her. For once Tom decided to go with his heart, he wanted to see if emotion over logic would triumph.

"Really?" Tom asked, trying to disguise his astonishment.

"Yeah Tom, what do you say?" Clarissa asked. Tom's heart started to beat faster. This was it, he was going to have a friend.

"Okay," Tom spluttered out. Not knowing what he was saying.

The next moment happened before Tom was fully aware of what was going on. It was as if it was happening in slow motion. Clarissa moved towards Tom, so that their faces were mere inches away. He watched as Clarissa's eyes fluttered shut, her head moving dangerously close to Tom. He felt as if he had been frozen. He watched in horror as she tilted her head and pressed her lips to Tom's.

It was over quicker than it begun. Clarissa blushed and walked away without saying a word. Tom was left sat by himself. Wondering what the hell had just happened, with nothing but a tingling sensation on his lips, and a feeling of pure hatred, hatred for the foreign feeling he felt in his heart.


End file.
